


the Last Shipwide Craze

by twlghtprincess



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 23:11:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11300787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twlghtprincess/pseuds/twlghtprincess
Summary: "Last" here meaning most recent. Lt. Paris introduces a toy he found to relieve boredom, and it catches on. {inspired by a friendly tumblr community, and of course, the compelling Voyager creators and crew}





	1. First you tell your best friend

     "Tom? Hey! Tom wait up!" Harry broke into sprint, trying to catch up with the ensign. Between Tom's longer stride and obvious rush, Harry had jump into the lift in order to catch his friend. "You're in a hurry! Late for a date?" Tom shook his head and smiled widely before gripping Harry's arm. "Nah, she's putting in another half-shift, but I found this great new toy. It's all I can do not to practice while I'm sitting on the bridge. I'll show you!"

The turbo life door slid open smoothly, and Harry found himself being half-led, half-dragged toward Tom's living quarters. He wracked his brains, trying to guess at what the helmsman had come across that had him so excited; until this point he seemed to only ever get this obsessed over holodeck restoration projects, vintage television cartoons, and pizza. And it wasn't as if they'd had access to 'new' _anything_ in the past six months or so. They had hit a rather long stretch of barren space "wasteland", with no inhabited planets or friendly species for several light years, at least, according to Seven's astrometric scans.

Tom made a beeline for the coffee table before reaching down for an object Harry couldn't see until Tom held it out between them. The surprise on Harry’s features was evident when he saw the smooth object; jet black and squashed, like a flat ball, and unlike anything he had seen. "Doesn't look like much of a toy..." He frowned, reaching out for it. But Tom closed his fingers over the smooth surface. "Watch this," he exclaimed, before turning his back. Harry smirked.

"Watch what, the back of your head? It's practically my only view on the bridge these days. You need a hair cut by the way." Tom turned only for a moment to give Harry and aggravated look before turning around again. This time the object was tucked in Tom's fist. "Watch carefully, it's all in the wrist." With a quick flick, the object spun wildly toward the floor, prevented only by a cord looped around his middle finger. At the end of its run, it spun back neatly, returning to Toms palm seemingly with as much speed as with which it had been flung. Harry's eyes widened.

"What is it?" He asked, eyeing the device. Tom removed the string ring before tossing the toy toward his friend. "It's called a yo-yo, goes back centuries to Ancient Greece. But it wasn't popular in North America until about the twenties - the __nineteen__  twenties that is. There are __hundreds__  of tricks you can do with these things, some even developed by other cultures! I read up on a few when I first replicated it but that wrist flick is the most important motion to learn. I've graduated to sleeper, which is a lot harder," he admitted.

"Take a nap?" Harry suggested, rotating the yo-yo. "Ha-ha," Tom uttered sarcastically, before making his way toward his replicator. "Yo-yo, Paris design zero-four, silver." A low buzz filled the air, the panel lighting up in a florescent blue before falling silent again. Tom tossed the second yo-yo toward his bridge mate, identical to the first but in an attractive matte silver. "I'll never get better if I don't have someone to compete with. I'll bet you three replicator rations you can't master the sleeper before I do," he wagered, his voice charged with excitement. Harry arched an eyebrow, his features incredulous. "You have, what, a whole days' head start on me?" Tom only shrugged, blue eyes bright. "Well, all the more reason to start practicing now!"

Back in his quarters, Harry did not allow himself to recline until he could beckon the yo-yo back into his palm. He had read four different instructional yo-yo manuals, watched three different tutorial videos from the early twenty-first century, and even tried both hands. It always started fine, but once at the bottom, he would jerk too soon, or too late, causing his new toy to fly up toward his face or rise limply to the middle of its string. He had not been so frustrated since his first clarinet lesson. It was o-three hundred before he whooped in triumph, the yo-yo flicking up and tucking it's string neatly inside as it flew back into his hand. __It is all in the wrist__... he nodded and smiled, Tom's hint the last fully coherent thought before he settled into a deep sleep.


	2. Then you impress your girlfriend

     Tom shoved his new hobby into his pocket as he stifled a yawn, half crashing into the door of B'Elanna's private quarters when he miscalculated the corridor corner in his drowsy stupor. She met him at the door, wide-eyed and alert. "Goomornin," he mumbled, pressing a kiss against her crown. She smiled into his uniform, breathing in his familiar scent. "Morning. Late night?" She asked, grabbing his arm and leading him in the general direction of the lifts. "Yea, kinda. While you were hard at work, I was practicing." He yawned again, this time into the crook of his elbow, before joining his girlfriend and three others on the lift, all on their way to deck two.

B'Elanna smirked. "Practicing what? Getting dressed? Because I can tell you, you're still not __quite__  there." Perplexed, he looked down, wondering if he'd __forgotten__ something... She sighed and moved behind him, catching a loop in his untucked uniform with her slender fingers and slipping it discreetly against the small of his back and into his pants. If Tom had been groggy before, her assistance left him as if a charge had shocked his system. Leave it to her to get him all riled up in a turbo lift full of people at o-six ten. All filed out when the door slid open, including B'Elanna, but not before slipping her hand into his pocket and yielding the object of his nighttime attention. He spun a tight circle trying to catch her, only to see her standing cock-hipped with the toy in her hand.

"That, actually," he pointed, stepping forward and snatching the yo-yo from her palm. Or at least, attempting to. She moved out of his way, tossing it from one hand to the other as they made their way to the mess hall. "It's um... Boring," she concluded after a few steps, tossing it his way. Her action unexpected, Tom fumbled with the yo-yo, and it slipped his fingers as he awkwardly danced in place to catch it. "Is __not__! Watch thi-... __Hey__!" He ran to catch up, seeing that she had already settled on the corner couch with two cups of coffee in the mess hall. She moved slightly to give him room before handing him his mug.

"What is it?" She asked, still eyeing the toy in his hand. "A yo-yo,” he explained, “an old Earth toy. I found out about it reading an old random facts book about the twentieth century." She pursed her lips. "And how, exactly, do you play with this toy?" He put the half-emptied cup down eagerly before slipping the cord around his middle finger. B'Elanna watched as he stood before her, her lips resting on the rim of her own cup in an expectant, curious smile. He performed the trick, much as he had with Harry the night before, except this time the yo-yo remained spinning smoothly at the end of its string for about three seconds before he flicked it back to his hand.

Her eyes widened, impressed. "That's it?" She asked, secretly wondering whether she could do it. Tom rolled his eyes. "That was 'sleeper', the first trick to master before I can even attempt the good stuff. I bet Harry three replicator tokens I'd get it before him, and guess who just won?" She stood, smirking. "Let me guess. At the expense of hours of sleep, you did. Just make sure your new toy doesn't get more attention than __me__ , and your bridge panel. Speaking of which, kiss me and go, because we're going to be late."

Tom smiled and pocketed the yo-yo once again before bending slightly and pressing a chaste kiss against B'Elanna's smiling lips. At least she wasn't starting out her day ready to bite someone's head off. "Yes ma'am," he joked, turning toward the kitchen where Neelix stood in front of a steaming bowl of an oatmeal-like concoction. "Thanks for coffee Neelix!" The Talaxian smiled and waved, making a mental note about the helmsman's new hobby. He too wondered if he could learn this "yo-yo" toy.

Tom walked toward the lift, a little pride in his gait. It wasn't just the achievement of the trick, or his pleasant, albeit short, morning date with B'Elanna. He liked being able to figure things out on his own, to use his faculties in manual, challenging tasks. It may have been just an old Earth toy, but to him it was almost like a new discovery with endless possibilities. He exited the lift on the bridge and waved at Tuvok, who made it a point to be earlier than anyone on their shared morning shift. One glance toward Harry and Tom knew he had undoubtedly won the bet; there seemed to be a new frustration line etched in Harry's forehead.

"Morning Harry. Get any sleep?" Groaning, the ensign rolled his head, as if to work out a pain in his neck. "Who needs sleep when there's a yo-yo bet on the line?" Tom laughed. "I just hope you like Neelix's food the next few days." Across the room, Tuvok's eyebrow shot up at the strange exchange between his coworkers, but he remained fully immersed in his task. Tom tapped his feet impatiently as he took his seat, excited to show Harry the trick at lunchtime. Before long, the remainder of the bridge had joined them, and they continued on course toward home.


	3. Bump in the road

     There was nothing wrong with a smooth, uninterrupted voyage. In fact, she knew that's what any logical, homesick traveler should want, even pray for. Not that she would ever admit otherwise, however, Captain Janeway found herself slightly _bored_. This had been the fourth bridge shift where not a single sensor mistuned, not a single crew member misdone, and not a single ship function misaligned. At this point, an empty chair could do the equivalent of her job. Near noon, she found herself at ease in her bridge chair, legs tucked neatly under her, her cheek resting in her palm as she watched the view screen normally the object of the Commander's attention.

Said Commander mirrored her ease, his head a little lower than usual in his chair, leg crossed over his knee at the ankle, eyes fixated on a PADD. "New book?" She asked, tired of watching an empty screen. Chakotay shook his head. "Old newspaper article, actually. It's interesting to learn history from the reporters who covered it firsthand. Gives a different perspective," he murmured, glancing up ahead for a moment before turning his attention back to his tablet. She nodded, eyebrow arching slightly that he found the story more interesting than bridge __in__ activity (and her for that matter). Sighing a little more dramatically than necessary, the Captain pulled herself up to her full height. "Helm, continue on course. I'll be in my ready room," she instructed before turning on her heel and making her way toward the ramp.

Suddenly, the entire ship seemed to free-fall, everyone jolting a few centimeters or so off whatever surface they were on. Knocked off balance and too far from a railing, Kathryn sunk to a knee, recovering much as a newborn fawn as she staggered toward the helm and reached out for Tom's shoulder for balance when continued turbulence rocked the ship. Chakotay stood unsteadily, making it halfway toward her before seeing her stand and changing his mind to join Harry, rubbing the back of his head where it had slammed into the back of his chair. Everything stabilized within seconds of the first jolt. “Report!” Tuvok recovered his voice first. “We seem to be suspended in space,” he said, an uncharacteristic uncertainty in this voice. Tom frowned, confusion etching in his face. “I-I'm reading that we are still running the core at Warp six... But we were at seven before the jolt." The Captain hailed B'Elanna in concern.

“Cut all engines Captain! Something is misaligning the coils in a chain reaction, we will be dead in space for weeks if you keep running it at this capacity!” She sounded muffled, as if her upper half was lodged in an engineering bulkhead trying to fix something. Janeway bit her lip. "We're already dead in space. Tom, you heard her!" Turning on her heel again, the Captain faced her senior officers stationed in the rear half of the bridge. "Ensign?" Harry nodded curtly, answering the question she didn't have to ask.

"All decks report normal, although hull integrity seems to be holding at less than nominal, about 78 percent. No reported casualties, except the Commander here." Chakotay frowned at Harry's jab, bringing his hand down to rest at his side rather than continuing to massage the base of his head. "All stop, Captain," Tom reported behind her. A small smirk graced Kathryn's lips and she nodded at Tom before turning facing Tuvok.

"What happened? Why have we stopped?" The Vulcan glanced up. "Scanners indicate that we are apparently trapped between two simultaneously positively and negatively magnetically charged clouds." Tom chuckled and crossed his arms. "Try saying that five times fast." He was rewarded with a high arching eyebrow from the Captain and Lieutenant Commander, who was about to speak when interrupted. "Seven of Nine to Captain Janeway. I require your presence in the astrometrics lab." Pointing toward all senior officers, she moved toward the door purposefully, Tom standing to follow.

"Ensign Morel," Janeway called over her shoulder as she walked, "you have the bridge, keep an eye on hull integrity, and call if anything else-- oh!" In her distraction, she failed to see the black, shiny object on the floor, which slid forward half a meter when she stepped on it, causing her to slide forward with it precariously. Chakotay and Tom reached out to steady her, irking her further. "What in space-..." she muttered, bending at the knees to pick up the object. "Is my ship falling apart?" Tom's eyes widened slightly.

"Oh, no. No worries... That's just my uh... My yo-yo," he smiled sheepishly. Appraising him for a moment, the Captain smirked before continuing to astrometrics, tossing the toy between her hands. Tom felt like a schoolboy separated from his paper plane; he really wanted his yo-yo back and was upset it had escaped the confines of his pocket. He could always replicate a new one, but he learned the basics with the one in her hands. It just wouldn't be the same.


End file.
